


This Won't Last (I Think)

by scxlias



Series: Do You Have Room For One More Troubled Soul [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scxlias/pseuds/scxlias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holster stumbles back a step, because he’s just realized that Nursey and Dex are dating or at least have some kind of relationship that’s more concrete than Holster and Nursey’s “yeah, we can hook up at kegsters if we’re both alone” arrangement. </p><p>Nursey has Dex now. And Holster is happy for him, he really is, at least one of them got their shit together. </p><p>He’s really happy for Nursey, that his teammate got what he wanted, but that means that he’s back to where he was before. </p><p>He’s on his own at a massive party, his best friend off with his girlfriend somewhere in the crowd, and he doesn’t have Nursey to ease the pain in his chest this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Won't Last (I Think)

**Author's Note:**

> from a question on tumblr wondering what happens to holster after nursey and dex get together. 
> 
> takes place after the prior two works in this series, so you should probably take a look at those first.
> 
> and as always, I'm in hell @ [epikegsters](http://epikegsters.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

 

The next kegster they have, Nursey gets plastered again. 

Holster watches him blow through three cups of tub juice in under two hours, watches him begin to lose his footing, and is there to catch him when he stumbles, because Dex apparently doesn’t care about his job as Nursey Patrol again tonight. 

Holster is just drunk enough that when Nursey smiles up at him, his heart skips and he thinks back to the last kegster they spent together. 

“Holtzy! You caught me!” Nursey exclaims, and okay, Nursey’s a happy drunk tonight. 

Holster gets Nursey’s feet back under him and props him up against a wall, not moving from his side in case he slips and falls. He glances around once, but he doesn’t see Dex approaching them until he’s standing next to Holster, smacking a hand to his forehead. 

“Derek, what the fuck. I leave you alone for five fucking minutes,” Dex grumbles and if Holster were more sober, he’d be more surprised about Dex calling Nursey by his first name. 

Even this drunk though, Holster kind of doesn’t know what’s going on. Dex is pressing a water bottle into Nursey’s hand, and he’s coaxing Nursey into taking small sips in between Nursey trying to kiss Dex. 

But instead of Dex pushing him away like Holster thought he would (that was why Nursey and Holster had their arrangement, wasn’t it? Because Nursey wanted to kiss Dex but couldn’t), Dex is just trying to get Nursey to drink more water and promising, “Later, Der, later, when you’re sober. Just drink this, please, babe.”

Holster is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he’s kind of intruding. 

Because Nursey calls everyone babe when he’s drunk and even when he’s sober sometimes, but Dex. 

Dex never does. Not unless...

Holster stumbles back a step, because he’s just realized that Nursey and Dex are _dating_  or at least have some kind of relationship that’s more concrete than Holster and Nursey’s “yeah, we can hook up at kegsters if we’re both alone” arrangement. 

Dex looks at him, concerned. “You okay, Holtz? Do I have to put you to bed too?” he jokes with a half smile, and Nursey whines. 

“ _Babe,”_ he groans, hanging off of Dex. “I’m the only one you get to take to bed.” 

And then he’s giggling and Dex is smiling fondly at him, and Holster can only nod and mutter out a flimsy excuse before turning to leave. 

“Holtzy’s _really_  good in bed Dexy. Don’t want you to fall for him ‘stead of me,” Holster hears Nursey say as he walks away. Dex snickers. 

“You’re telling me that story later, dipshit. Let’s get you sitting somewhere,” Dex says, and Holster tunes them out. 

He’s not sulking. 

He isn’t. 

He... is. 

Because Nursey has Dex now. And Holster is happy for him, he really is, at least one of them got their shit together. 

He’s really happy for Nursey, that his teammate got what he wanted, but that means that he’s back to where he was before. 

He’s on his own at a massive party, his best friend off with his girlfriend somewhere in the crowd, and he doesn’t have Nursey to ease the pain in his chest this time.

He thinks that maybe some of Lardo’s tub juice (Shitty’s recipe) will help. 

It really doesn’t, but by the time he’s through a few cups of it, he’s at least not thinking as much. 

Half an hour later, Chowder and Farmer walk him up to the attic. 

Holster smiles at them and thanks them, though he’s sure that his words come out slurred, and presses a kiss to each of their foreheads when they leave three water bottles and a container of ibuprofen on his night stand and tell him to take care of himself. Farmer laughs and Chowder gently pushes Holster onto his bed and then he’s alone again. 

He downs two bottles of water, and finds himself a little more clear headed, at least clear headed enough to get himself to the bathroom before he throws up. 

He stays in the bathroom for a long time after. After his stomach is empty, after the dry heaving has stopped, after his eyes stop watering. 

He goes back up to the attic and curls up on the bottom bunk and tries desperately not to think of how there’s not going to be anyone sharing it with him tonight. 

Chowder and Farmer have gone back to C’s room. Lardo and Bitty will be collapsing into the same bed with each other, doing nothing more than sleeping, but at least not alone. Nursey and Dex are no doubt off to one of their dorms. Ransom and March... 

Ransom and March are pushing open the door to the attic, attached at the lips, Ransom moaning as March slips a hand under his shirt and nips at his bottom lip. 

Holster scrambles to get out of bed, almost hitting his head on the way. 

“Shit, Holtzy!” Ransom says, backing away from March. Her cheeks are burning red. Holster won’t lie, she’s gorgeous, even flushed and a little tipsy, with her hair wild around her face. 

Holster ducks his head, rubbing at the back of his neck, and stumbles toward the door. He glances at the alarm clock on the way. It’s late enough (or early enough, he’s not sure) that Lardo has likely kicked the randos to the curb and shut down the house for the night, even if it is well into morning at this point. 

“Sorry. I didn’t know you guys were gonna, I’ll go. I’ll crash on the couch or something. Sorry,” he mumbles, missing the doorknob the first time he goes for it. 

“Holster. Holtz. _Adam!”_ Ransom says, grabbing his shoulder. Holster goes easily, turning when Ransom pulls at him. “Fuck, dude, have you been crying?”

He brushes his free hand over his cheeks and finds that, fuck, yeah, he has been crying, shit, shit, shit. 

Holster glances up between Ransom and March, both of them watching him with concern in their eyes, Ransom’s hand still on his shoulder, March stepping slowly toward him. She takes Holster’s hand and he wishes he could find the will to pull away and leave them both to just enjoy their night. 

“Adam, are you alright?” March asks, and there’s so much genuine concern in her voice, it takes everything in him not to collapse right there. 

Instead he just forces a smile, tries not to think about the tightness in his chest, or the fact that he can hardly breathe, or that he feels like the guilt of loving his best friend is going to eat him alive. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just gonna go, yeah? Sorry for crashing your night.”

He tries to turn to leave, but March tightens her grip on his hand. 

“Adam.”

“Holtzy,” Ransom says, and shit the way he says Holster’s name makes him want to cry again. “Adam, talk to me, come on. You’ve never lied to me before. What happened? Who did this to you, man?”

Holster doesn’t answer, just presses his back into the door and little harder, like maybe he can just fall right through it if he tries hard enough. 

“Shit. Was it the lax bros? Adam, did someone hurt you? Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Please. We want to help. Just tell me what happened. Did someone do something?”

Holster tries. He really does. But then March is getting closer and they’re both too close and they’re both so concerned and he can’t _take it anymore_. 

He says the first thing that he thinks of, what sent this night spiraling into misery. 

“Nursey and Dex got together. I think they’re dating?”

Ransom’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh shit, dude. Did you... I mean I know you guys had that thing, but you didn’t.. I mean did you have feelings or-”

Holster cuts him off. “No, I’m happy for them. Its great. Nursey’s wanted that for a long time.”

“Fuck, was he using you? That’s not okay, bro, he can’t just lead you on like that if he was just-”

“No. I knew. I slept with him anyway,” Holster says, his voice impossibly small. “It was a mutual thing.”

Ransom freezes, then backs up a step. “You’re into someone? You’ve never said anything to me. That’s never... you always tell me when you’re into someone.”

“Justin,” March says quietly, almost like a warning, like she doesn’t want Ransom going off of that tangent right now.

“I never told you because it’s hopeless, Rans,” Holster says miserably, “He’s straight. He’s got a girlfriend. I just... Nurse and Poindexter getting together... it kinda just leaves me totally alone, you know? I mean C’s got Caitlin, and Bits has his secret boyfriend, Whiskey and Tango are definitely fucking, and Lardo’s got Shitty and you...” he trails off, ducking his face to hide the expression of shame. “You two’ve got each other. And the one guy I’m in fucking love with is straight and has a girlfriend and you’re both so unfairly attractive I just...” he trails off again, panic seizing his chest as he realizes exactly what he’s just done. 

They. He’d meant to say _they_  but he said _you_  instead and fuck, now they know and he’s just fucked up everything, he’s going to lose his best friend because he was so fucking stupid and March is going to hate him and-

“Oh, Adam,” March says, and she’s not angry. 

She sounds sad. 

Sad... for him?

Holster chances a glance up. He’s not expecting the concern and sadness twisting March’s features. He’s not expecting the utterly broken look on Ransom’s face. 

He twists out of their reach, grabbing for the doorknob again. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m going to go. I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t even get the door open before there’s a hand on his shoulder and he flinches. He doesn’t know why, he knows neither of them would ever hit him, but he’s too high strung right now to think rationally. 

He was expecting it to be Ransom turning him around, was almost expecting him to tell him not to speak to him for a while.

Its not Ransom. Its March. 

She’s ridiculously tall, and the heels she’s wearing make it so she’s almost eye level with Holster when he’s spun around to face her.

“Adam, I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

He doesn’t know how to respond, other than to nod dumbly. 

He’s breathless as she connects their lips, gasping for air as she pulls away. 

She smiles at him and presses a kiss to his jaw, looking over at Ransom as she does. 

“Adam,” she says and he looks down at her, his chest heaving, his mind running a mile a minute, trying to figure out what’s happening, why she’s doing this. “You know you’re kind of unfairly attractive too.”

“What?” he asks, bewildered. 

“I think you’re hot. And I think Justin is too. And I know you both think I’m pretty. And I think you really want to kiss Justin, don’t you?”

Holster nods, not meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Adam, would you kiss my boyfriend?”

“Fuck, please,” Ransom gasps, somewhere off to his left, and when Holster looks up, Ransom is right next to him. 

“I... I... Can I?” Holster stumbles over his words, looking at March with wide eyes. 

“Adam Birkholtz. Will you please kiss my boyfriend, right now?” She gives him a little smile and kisses his jaw again before turning and doing the same to Ransom.

Holster doesn’t get to say a word before Ransom is crashing their lips together. 

It’s slick and their teeth are clacking together and it’s messy and tastes of alcohol and it’s not really that great of a kiss, but Holster thinks he’s never had one that’s more perfect. 

When they part, they’re both breathless, and Ransom is staring at him with wide eyes, his lips slick with spit. 

March steps between them and kisses the taste of Ransom from Holster’s mouth. 

“I think you two should do that a lot more,” she says, leaning back and kissing Ransom too when she’s done speaking. 

Ransom complies, leaning over March’s shoulder to kiss Holster again. 

Holster thinks if March weren’t pressing him into the wall right now, sucking a mark into his neck, he’d collapse, his knees buckling underneath him. 

He can’t tell how long they stay there, trading heated kisses between the three of them. But when Ransom’s hand dips under March’s skirt, the other rucking Holster’s shirt up, March swats at him. 

He pulls his hands back immediately, and March’s forehead connects with Holster’s chest. 

“I think we’re all too drunk to do this right now. Let’s sleep and talk about this in the morning, okay?” she says gently, pushing at Ransom to get him to let her out from between him and Holster. 

 _This is it. It’s done. It’s over now, fuck, I was stupid to think that would last_ , Holster thinks, and he’s about to turn towards the door, but March grabs his hand and tugs him toward the bed. 

“Come on Adam. There’s no way we’ll all fit together, but I’ll take the top bunk. You and Justin can sleep on the bottom. I think you need that tonight.” She pushes him gently into the bed with Ransom and kicks off her heels. 

She doesn’t give them any warning before she’s stripping out of her skirt, her shirt following quickly after. Holster looks away before she can take off her bra, but not before she winks at him. 

She rummages around in the dresser for a second, coming up with a shirt that is most definitely Holster’s. She slips into the shirt with a sly smile and turns back to Holster and Ransom, pressing a kiss to each other their foreheads and climbing into the top bunk. 

Half a second later, her arm drapes over the side, her fingers just barely brushing Holster’s shoulder. 

“Night boys,” she mumbles.

“Night babe,” Ransom replies, curling around Holster, one arm draped over Holster’s middle, Ransom’s face pressed into his shoulder. “Night Holtzy. Love you guys.”

The way he says it, there’s no room to think he means it any other way. 

Ransom _loves_  him, and March at least likes him and she’s okay with Ransom loving him, as far as he can tell, and Holster...

For the first time in months, the tightness in his chest eases, and he falls asleep to the sound of March and Ransom’s breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> the tumblr -> [epikegsters](http://epikegsters.tumblr.com/)


End file.
